miller's crossing

I miss my blog. I've been perusing posts from early 2006 and regretting I no longer am writing little things like that -- little postcards to myself about what's on my mind. Perhaps I'm not valuing the thoughts swimming around in my head as much these days. Isn't that what an MFA program is supposed to do?

Those old posts are just shadows. Snapshots of shadows even. What I'll use them for, what I'm putting together is perhaps better presented as a mosaic and not a narrative. Why I did one thing and then the next is never as clear as a straight line.

This might be the end of my longest blogging hiatus since beginning Miller's Crossing in 2005. I find I have a lot of ambivalence about having an online presence. I'm still resisting Facebook. I think I'll have to write about this here--exorcise my resistance to posting online by posting my thoughts online. ... We'll see.

In the meantime, I've been getting out and enjoying the summer. Here are a few photos posted over on Flickr.

This is where I spent Friday afternoon. I read Louise Erdrich's "Birchbark House." A good read for a bright 8-year-old or a 38-year-old on a slow day.

It felt verrry good to lounge in the sun. Yes, yes, I should've been blogging and sending emails and working on a new article, but sometimes you just need to read. I picked up a couple children's books at Powell's recently for a young friend's birthday. And if my trend for the past year says anything, I'm very resistant to the idea of presenting a young friends with books I've never read. It's just too enjoyable to reading something easy and fun. And then you can ask about the book later.

On Wednesday, I read Ida B. . . . and Her Plans to Maximize Fun, Avoid Disaster, and (Possibly) Save the World by Katherine Hannigan. Ida B is a great character—she talks to brooks and trees and runs all over her parents orchard in Western Wisconsin. Life doesn't remain perfect, however, for Ida B. Her mom gets cancer and, after several years of homeschooling, she has to go to school.

As her life feels like it is spinning out of control, Ida B decides she is going to be miserable—no enjoying new friends, no laughter, no sharing with her parents anything good about school. How long can she stay miserable? Read it and find out.

I think I'm part of a movement.

Blogger Todd Sieling's Slow Blog manifesto has recently been getting some attention. Word of it came to me via a New York Times article. (I'm such an un-networked blogger.) The article resonated. Then I googled and came across the lovely Ripple Effects blog -- another natural slow blogger. Here's what the author had to say:

It’s all about thinking through, reading and studying in depth, chewing and digesting, and finally putting something meaningful down in words.

Perhaps I'm not doing that exactly, but I do aspire to share a little bit of substance -- something of meaning. And I wish I had more time tonight to write about this. But it's the end of the semester and the night before Thanksgiving. I'll be away from my computer all weekend. And I've still got pie crusts to make.

Happy Thanksgiving!

not a pet

I'm working on a story about urban crows -- ubiquitous, gregarious, loud and clever. According to University of Washington's John Marzluff, crows have culturally co-evolved with humans. We are woven into each other's lives, shaping each other's behaviors. As I think about our relationship with crows, it's interesting to reflect on what they can teach us about ourselves.

This is a story idea that I have about mix tapes.

It really has to do with the fact that my car, that I don't drive very often, has a cassette tape player. I really love that it has a cassette player and not a CD player. So, when I'm driving all over town running errands, I've been listening to old (and one new) mix tapes. These tapes haven't really been in circulation, but over the past year and a half as I've moved out of and sold a house, I unearthed several old mix tapes that friends had made for me and a couple I had made for myself.

School's started and I’ve got lots of reading to do for classes. Fortunately, I spent my summer reading (mostly) pleasurable novels. Intentionally or not, two related themes surfaced in my choices: marriage problems and women’s coming of age.

Today, I walked into the bookstore of the college where I'm now working to find a book in which I have a chapter. It was the first time I'd seen the book. What a happy surprise ... and somehow a strange vindication.

 

Before blogging and before everyone had cell phones, I went to college in Portland, OR. It was 1988. I was 25 pounds heavier, scared of boys (and a lot of girls), and desperate for friends. First thing I learned: having two thousand miles between me and anyone who knew me felt really good. There is a great deal of freedom in anonymity. In school, I was mostly an academic failure. But I had friends; fell in love with Portland, the ocean and my bike; played lots of music; and learned to party like the rockstar I wanted to be. It was my first big step towards becoming my current self.

My former colleagues at the Center for Media and Democracy have released their new book The Best War Ever: Lies, Damned Lies and the Mess in Iraq.

There's even a video to promote it. I did some research for the book. It's good stuff. Check it out.